Lurking
by EruvandeAini
Summary: DI Drake thinks Evan White has some important information, but Gene Hunt isn't as trusting as she is...
1. Chapter 1

"What's up with you, Bolly?"

Gene leaned back in the chair, boots casually hoiked up on the corner of his desk. Alex looked at him, one hand on her hip, one brandishing a biro, which she thrust towards him.

"You really haven't got the slightest clue, have you, you ignorant pig?" She spat.

"Apparently not, you haughty tart, or I wouldn't have asked. What is it, bra straps cutting off the circulation to your brain?"

She sparked, banging her hands down on the desk between them, momentarily stopping the chatter in the main office, which resumed again just as quickly; low, knowing murmurs about DI Drake and the Guv going at it once more.

"My _brain_ is probably shutting down as we speak, Hunt, and your fat, lazy self is blocking the very thing I need to hold on to."

"Oh you _think_ so, do you?"

"Yes!"

"Right then, Bols!" He snapped, swinging off his chair. "You can follow up your pretty boy, on one condition."

"Oh, and what's that?" She said, flinging down the biro and throwing him her coldest tight-lipped smile.

"_I'm_ comin' with you." He grabbed his black overcoat and pulled open the office door, stalking past Chris and Ray, who were overly focused on the unimportant paperwork on their desks. Stunned, but momentarily triumphant, Alex hurried after him.

-------------------------------------------

Gene parked up the Quattro and cracked his knuckles inside the black leather gloves. He turned to her, pressing his lips together, and paused, taking a sharp breath through the nose.

"Let me make this crystal clear for you, Drake. Under no circumstances are you to move out of my sight when we're in there. I know you seem to have taken a liking to that smarmy suit, but you're _my_ responsibility, and _I_ don't trust the fancy bastard one little tiny bit. Do you get that?"

"Oh, perfectly, my chivalrous protector." She dripped sarcasm.

"Oh no, no chivalry, I'd like to throttle you before he does, that's all." He got out quickly and slammed the door behind him.

She followed him into the building, hands in the pockets of her white jacket.

"Evan's message said he'd meet me in the foyer" She said, looking around.

"Well, he's not 'ere. No one is. Remember what I said, I don't like this." Gene's tone made Alex's stomach knot a little. It didn't feel right. Suddenly it seemed very dark. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a figure in white walk past the end of a corridor at the far end of the foyer. The clown? She wanted to run out again, but she knew she couldn't. Whatever the clown was, she knew she had to follow the narrative clues of her own fantasy here, so she started towards where it had gone.

"Hold up, where are you going? Am I talking to my bloody self here?" Gene barked at her, running after her down the corridor.

They moved more slowly around the corner. The corridor was a long one, doors on either side, and a fire exit at the end. "Get behind me, woman." He commanded, and for once, she didn't want to argue. He put a cautious hand to his gun and they walked forward. Alex put her hand on his arm unconsciously, and he glanced down at it. Eyebrows raised, he didn't draw attention to it, but nursed a little smugness. She was always so steely, and he did enjoy those scarce moments of vulnerability.

Suddenly, there was the sound of something in one of the offices, and they both ran towards the sound. Hunt tried the door, but it wouldn't budge, so he kicked it. It swung open, cheap grey handle flying off as it did. There was a window open, and a vase rolling on the floor. Alex went to the window and peered out; there was no-one to be seen.

"Nothing." She said dejectedly, turning just in time to see Gene being knocked over the back of the head by a masked figure. Hunt slumped to the ground, and the figure approached her, gun pointed, and motioned for her to move forward.

"This isn't a good idea." She said, in the calm, conciliatory tones of a trained negotiator, stepping towards him, glancing down at the prone DCI. He still wasn't moving as she was forced to leave the room and go back down the corridor.

The masked gunman was edging her back towards the other end, and there, she saw the white clown.


	2. Chapter 2

She felt her legs begin to buckle, the gun digging into her lower back, pushing her forward, closer to the waiting figure. The clown raised his arms, beckoning her. The corridor started to swim in front of her, as she stumbled, dizzy and disoriented. The clown's voice, slow and deep, called out to her.

"Alex.."

"No... please..." She whimpered, dragging her feet but somehow feeling as though she was on some kind of conveyor belt, beginning to speed towards the sinister white being who watched her progress, impassive.

"Right, sunshine, let go of her, right now" Hunt's firm voice called out, and the corridor began to stabilize beneath her feet. Her kidnapper whirled her round and pointed his weapon at Gene, who was standing in the open doorway with his gun in one hand, face grimly determined as he nursed the back of his head with the other.

"Oh, go on, really, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to turn you into a human colander, but you will let her go." He yelled, but the masked man was still silent. Alex looked back, but the clown was no longer there.

She was only a few feet away from the end of the corridor. Thinking as quickly as she could while her mind cleared, she planned an escape, and elbowed the gunman in the stomach. In her wooziness, it didn't have nearly the power it could have had, and instead seemed to enrage him.

"Drake! No!" Hunt bellowed and started to run to them as the gunman raised his weapon. He brought it crashing down on her head. She crumpled to the floor and he fled. Hunt reached Alex, and faced a brief moment of indecision as he heard the main doors flung open. She wasn't unconscious, but she was clearly stricken.

"Bloody hell, Bolly, have I got to carry you again?" He muttered as he inspected the livid welt appearing on her temple. "And you've got the brass-necked cheek to call _me_ lazy."

She felt him scoop her up, and sank into him, the pain in her head hot and angry. He carried her confidently; he was still a broad-shouldered, strong man for all the creep of the years elsewhere. She was still slumped, dizzy and unfocused, but her eyes open and her head resting on him where he had grown too used to it.

Hunt allowed himself a downward glance. She met his eyes briefly, porcelain perfect features marred by the bruise on her forehead.

The main door opened in front of them and Hunt looked up to see Evan walking in, all carefully coiffed and tailored. He met Hunt's stony glare with his studied air of concern.

"DCI Hunt? What's happened?"

"You might very well ask, _Mr_ Suit. How very convenient of you to show up now." Hunt snarled. Alex focused on Evan. She was clearly groggy, but she managed a nervous smile.

"Evan, you're here."

Evan ignored Hunt's aggressive demeanour and moved to look at Alex's head.

"God, Alex, what's happened?" He said, reaching out a hand.

"She got pistol-whipped by the invisible man. He magically appeared where she'd arranged to meet you." Gene pulled her back from Evan's out-stretched hand.

Evan half-laughed incredulously. "Well, you don't think I...? Why would I do that?"

"I don't pretend to know why toffty scum-defending tossers do what they do."

"Hunt, put me down." Alex insisted, her voice still unsteady.

"You're staying where you are, Bolly, you're wounded." Hunt tightened his hold on her, despite her wriggling protestations. "Perhaps the sainted Mr Suit can tell us what it was that was he needed to meet you in a deserted office block to tell you?"

"I.. I don't really think this a good idea anymore, Mr Hunt. Perhaps you should put the lady down, she clearly doesn't want you to hold her any longer." Evan replied.

"She doesn't know what she wants. Now, how long have you been here?"

"I've just arrived, as you saw. This was supposed to be a private meeting between me and DI Drake."

Hunt sniffed. "Are you with-holding information about a police matter? Because that could end very badly for you indeed."

"I really don't think you want to be threatening me, DCI Hunt. You have no idea what you're dealing with." Evan's tone was still dismissive, but there was something darker there now, and Alex, even through the concussion, sensed the atmosphere change.


	3. Chapter 3

The Standoff was cracked by the sound of screeching tyres. Evan turned, surprised, and Hunt surged forward to see the Quattro speeding away. His face reddened; he was incandescent.

"He's hotwired my bloody car!" He yelled; utterly, utterly furious. In his arms, Alex felt his grip against her, tighter than was in any way necessary, and beginning to hurt. She yelped in protest, and he reined in the anger enough to set her down carefully. He took a few steps, quick enough to see the Quattro turn the corner at the end of the street, and then spun around, marching back to Evan.

"Did you see him?" He demanded, and Evan's hands went up in innocent pleading.

"I didn't see a thing, Detective, no one at all. I can offer you a lift back to the station, though." There was an undertone of mockery in the offer.

Hunt looked like he was about to erupt, but Alex, recovering a little composure out in the fresh air, told Evan they would be very grateful for the help.

-----------------------------------------

"I want the little bastard strung up by the bollocks when we catch him. He better not have left a mark on it." Hunt stormed into his office, throwing his overcoat down and slamming the door.

Shaz saw the bruise on Alex's forehead and came forward in open, genuine concern. "Oh, ma'am, wass happened? That looks really nasty, I'll just get some stuff to see to it." 

She came back a moment later with some first aid supplies, and tended to the DI as she sat at her desk. Chris ambled over.

"Who nicked the Quattro then, ma'am?" He asked, eating a chocolate bar.

"The same so and so who did this to me, I think." Alex replied. "Did you check the inventories we found, Chris?" She winced at the feel of antiseptic on a grazed part of the bruise.

"Oh, yeah. You were right, there's a crossover in the addresses. Me and Ray were just goin' to check it out."

"No, no, Chris, that's fine. I'll sort it." She said quickly. She was up, thanking Shaz for her help, and pushing through the double doors before anyone could argue. As the doors flapped back, Hunt came out of his office, cigarette in hand, only marginally less livid than a few minutes before.

"Where's Drake?" He said gruffly, and Shaz and Chris exchanged a nervous glance.

----------------------------------------------

She pulled up outside the office in the small green car, and peered through the window. There was someone inside the portacabin, she could see shadows of movement behind the venetian blinds. She reached a hand up to her head, throbbing still and stinging where the TCP had been. Should she do this? Surely it was better to do this with someone? _Someone? Gene._

"I don't need him. I'm a grown woman, and he's a figment." She muttered, getting out of the car and knocking on the door. The sound of talking inside stopped, and there was a pause before the door opened. A small, balding man opened it a crack, and looked Alex up and down. She held up her warrant card and smiled her most superior icy smile.

"DI Drake, do you mind if I come in?" She said, pushing the door open fully and walking through it.

Inside there was another man, stocky and blow-dried, standing with the same expression of indignant shock as the first man, who closed the door.

"What's this all about?" Mr Blow-dry asked.

"I wanted to ask you few questions about your business, gentlemen, as part of an ongoing investigation." She told them, slipping her ID back in her pocket. She noticed the smaller man go to the front window and flick the slats up a little. 

"What sort of questions?" The other man continued, nervously. Alex wasn't sure what she'd interrupted, but it looked like they were expecting someone else.

"Well, what kind of work do you do here?" She asked, walking over to the smaller man, and glancing at what he seemed preoccupied by outside. There was another car pulling up. She looked back at the other guy. "Well?" She emphasized.

"We're a… an import business." He seemed to search for the words. Alex smelled a rat, and glanced back at the car outside. Her breath hitched in her throat as she recognized the man getting out of the car.

"Evan!" she said aloud before she could process it. He was walking to the door. 

------------------------------------------------

"And you just let her go, you plank!" Hunt raged, at the wheel of a uniform car, giving it all the sharp-corner punishment he could. Oh, when he found who took the Quattro, he was going to break his legs! He smacked past a dustbin, the sound of it clattering as they sped past, and he smiled grimly. It had been far too long since he had been so devil-may-care in a car. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something told him his driving was a little too frantic.

"Well, no Guv, she just left before I really thought what she was going to do." Chris was apologetic, holding on to the back of the driving seat for all he was worth as his DCI drove like a maniac.

"You spoon, where did you think she were going?" Ray asked him.

"Oh, and where were you, Raymondo?" Hunt railed on him, and Ray pulled a wide-eyed conspiratorial face at Chris, one that acknowledged now was not the time to be point-scoring.

"I can't believe the dozy tart thought she could do this on her own. There's the car!" Hunt exclaimed, slamming on the brakes so hard that Chris whacked his nose off the back of the headrest.

Alex's green car was still parked outside the prefab, but there was no sign of anyone else. Hunt leapt from the car and hammered on the door, the force of it rattling the plastic windows. "Drake!" He shouted. No answer. He kicked at the door, but it only juddered. He kicked again and it swung open. There had clearly been a scuffle inside, paper was all over the floor and an angle-poise lamp was dangling from a desk. On one of the walls, a year planner had the word 'Docklands' circled in red on today's date.

"Er, Guv." Ray said, crouching down. "Whoever it is, they're got the DI." He handed her ID to Hunt.

"Right." Hunt said in a low growl, and was out the door again.


End file.
